Part 2 (2/2)
At an exquisite desk of walnut, carved with grotesque images, sat the Count of Monte-Cristo; he was busily engaged in writing, and beside him lay a huge pile of ma.n.u.script that was ever and anon augmented by an additional sheet, hastily scrawled in strange, bewildering Semitic characters.
The Count showed but small trace of the pa.s.sage of years; he did not look much older than when he left the Isle of Monte-Cristo with Haydee on that voyage which was destined to result so disastrously for the Alcyon and her ill-fated crew. To be sure, his hair was slightly flecked with gray, but his visage still retained its full outline, and not a wrinkle marred its masculine beauty. He was clad in an exceedingly picturesque costume, half Greek and half Turkish, while upon his head was a red fez from the centre of which hung down a gilt ta.s.sel.
As he wrote his eyes sparkled and he seemed filled with enthusiasm. At length he threw aside his pen, and rising began to pace the vast apartment with long strides. ”Alas!” he muttered, ”perhaps after all I am only a vain dreamer, as hosts of others have been before me. But no, my scheme is feasible and cannot fail; it is based on sound principles and a thorough knowledge of mankind; besides, the immense wealth that an all-wise G.o.d has placed at my disposal will aid me and form a mighty factor in the cause. In the past I used that wealth solely for my own selfish ends, but now all is different; I have no thought of self--the philanthropist has replaced the egotist; I have aided the poor, relieved the stricken and brought joy to many a sorrowing home, but hitherto I have acted only in isolated cases; now I meditate a grand, a sublime stroke--to give freedom to man throughout the entire length and breadth of the Continent of Europe. If I succeed, and succeed I must, every down-trodden human being from the coast of France to the Ural Mountains, from the sunny Mediterranean to the frozen Arctic Ocean, will reap the benefit of my efforts and shake off the yoke of tyranny. Where shall I begin? Ah! with France, my own country, the land that gave me birth. I shall thus return good for evil, and Edmond Dantes, the prisoner of the Chateau d'If, will free the ma.s.ses from their galling chains. My most potent instrument will be the public press; by means of journals I will found, or buy, the minds of all Europeans shall become familiarized with the theory of universal liberty and ripened for sweeping revolutions and the establishment of republics; I will also call fiction to my aid; struggling novelists and feuilletonists shall receive liberal subsidies from my hand on condition that they disseminate my ideas, theories and plans in their romances and feuilletons; thus will I reach thousands upon thousands who hold themselves aloof from politics, and almost insensibly they will be transformed into zealous, active partisans of the order of things that is to be; poets, too, shall sing the praises of freedom louder and more enthusiastically than ever before; in fine, no instrument, no means, however humble and apparently insignificant, shall be neglected when the proper moment arrives, but until it does arrive I must wait, wait patiently, wait though while waiting an internal fire consume me, and my veins throb with anxiety and expectation to the point of bursting.”
He sank into a chair, and, burying his face in his hands, was lost in profound thought.
Meanwhile, a lovely woman, leading a beautiful girl of eight years and a handsome boy of nine, had noiselessly entered the apartment. It was Haydee, the wife of Monte-Cristo, Haydee grown mature and more beautiful than ever. Her night-black tresses were gathered in two wide braids at the back of her shapely head, so long that they reached below her waist.
Her eyes were as bright as stars, and her slender hands, tipped with their pink nails, as white as the lily; her tiny feet, encased in Cinderella slippers of rose-hued satin, peeped out from beneath ample Turkish trousers, which were semi-transparent and disclosed the outlines of her beautifully turned limbs; she wore a close-fitting gilet of pearly silk, adorned with gilt fringe and cut low, displaying her snowy neck and magnificent shoulders; her arms were encompa.s.sed but not hidden by flowing sleeves of filmy gauze as fine as the tissue of a spider's web; about her neck flashed a collar of brilliant diamonds of enormous value, and on her tapering fingers were rings of emerald, ruby and sapphire; on her head was a red fez, precisely similar to her husband's; her countenance, a perfect revelation of angelic beauty, was wreathed in sunny smiles that betokened thorough happiness and contentment.
The little girl, Zuleika, the daughter of Monte-Cristo, was her exact image, a reproduction of her lovely mother in miniature, a promise of rare delight for the future. The child's costume was also modeled after Haydee's, but with modifications suited to her tender years. Zuleika was of a gentle, loving disposition, but a vein of romance and poetry had already developed itself in her notwithstanding her extreme youth. She sighed for the unknown delights of the sea, and the wail of the surf sounded to her like the most delicious of mysterious harmonies. Her infant imagination peopled the watery realm with spirits of good and evil always in contention, and the great s.h.i.+ps, with their huge white sails, that she saw in the distance from the sandy beach of the Island of Salmis, were in her eyes the mighty birds of Arabian story.
The boy, Esperance, the son of Monte-Cristo, resembled his father both in disposition and appearance; his youthful soul was full of n.o.ble aspirations, while his daring and bravery filled even the hardy fishermen of the coast with wonder and amazement. He was a very manly and handsome child; quick, enthusiastic and energetic; his father's hope and his mother's idol; though Haydee saw, with extreme uneasiness, that the little lad was wise beyond his years, and was already devoted to Monte-Cristo's somewhat visionary schemes, which he appeared to grasp in all their complicated details. His attire was that of a Greek fisher boy; his trousers, rolled up above his knees, displayed his naked legs and bare feet; in one hand he held a rough sea cap that he had removed from his head at the door of the library. Esperance loved, above all other things, to be with the fishermen on the beach, and his joy knew no bounds when he was permitted to accompany them on their fis.h.i.+ng expeditions to the waters beyond.
Haydee remained silently gazing at Monte-Cristo for a moment; then, advancing into the middle of the room, she stood beside him with the children. Zuleika, dropping her mother's hand, sprang lightly upon her father's knees, and, clasping him about the neck with her chubby arms, kissed him rapturously.
The Count started from his deep reverie and returned his daughter's kiss; then, looking up, he perceived Haydee and Esperance.
”Ah! my loved ones,” said he, ”so you are all here!”
”Yes, papa,” returned Zuleika, in a clear, crystal voice, that sounded like the tinkle of a fairy bell, ”we are all here--mamma, Esperance and 'Leika!”
Monte-Cristo smiled faintly, and patted the little girl tenderly on the cheek.
”Haydee,” said he, ”fortune favors us in our children; they are, indeed, a blessing to us.”
”A veritable blessing, my lord,” answered the lovely Haydee, ”but still I cannot help feeling some terror at the thought that Esperance may one day be drawn into those political struggles you have so often foretold, and in which it is your intention to act a prominent part.”
”Papa will lead the people to victory, and I will fight by his side!”
cried Esperance, proudly.
Haydee gazed sadly at the enthusiastic boy, and tears came into her gazelle-like eyes.
”Oh! my lord,” she said to her husband, ”teach Esperance the arts of peace, implant in his boyish bosom, while there is yet time, the love of home and domestic joys.”
The Count glanced admiringly at the little lad, who stood with dilated nostrils and eyes flas.h.i.+ng fire; then, turning to Haydee, he said in an impressive tone:
”My beloved wife, Esperance is but an infant, and it may be years ere Europe shall awake from her lethargy and strive to overturn the thrones of her despots; before that period, the period of revolution and bloodshed, our son may change his opinions and cease to be the ardent Republican he is now.”
”No, no,” protested the enthusiastic boy; ”I will be a Republican all my life!”
Monte-Cristo smiled sadly, and, drawing the lad to his knee, said to him:
”Esperance, my son, you are yet too young to know the ways of the world and the snares that monarchs set for the inexperienced and unwary. There are temptations at their command capable of winning over even the most zealous enemies, and they never hesitate to use them when the opportunity offers. At the proper time I will instruct you fully about all this; now, you cannot understand it.”
As Monte-Cristo ceased to speak, Ali entered the library, followed by three native servants attached to the palace. The Nubian bowed low before his master and reverently kissed Haydee's hand; the servants did likewise. Then Ali handed the Count a sealed letter, making signs to the effect that he had found it tied with a cord to one of the palm trees on the lawn.
Monte-Cristo opened the letter and glanced at the signature; as he did so a look of surprise and annoyance settled upon his face.
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